


Claimed

by beforeyouspeak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/pseuds/beforeyouspeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the final battle, Hermione and Bellatrix meet in an unexpected location. Unfinished business distracts Hermione from the task at hand. Dark A/U.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a tremendously late birthday gift for my wonderful beta, Uniquely Named. (Who also beta-d her own gift. That is real dedication.) [She knows my OCD well. -U.N]
> 
> As this is a present, I am stepping a bit outside of what I usually write. I’ve set out to soften Bellatrix less and to leave some of the inherent flaws of the pairing in.  
> I don’t own these lovely characters, I am just playing for a bit. And this contains adult content, so please do be of age.

"Well well well. What do we have here?"

Bellatrix Lestranges’ oddly childish tone bounced off the hard stonewalls of the potion storeroom. She advanced on the slim figure intently sifting through ingredients. She stopped just short of full body contact, but she could still feel heat seeping through the two layers of clothing. She observed the tensing of every muscle in the girl’s body.

“Don’t worry, Muddy. This isn’t an interrogation like our last… meeting.”

The young witch shivered hard in spite of her best efforts.

“I see you remember it pet. Tell me, my filthy girl, is there ever a moment you don’t think of me?”

Hermione gasped at the cruelty of the words. She wanted to reply, to push the woman away and make her escape. She’d come to this room out of desperation. There was a clear pause in the battle at the moment and there were so many injured. She didn’t have to like Snape to know that he would be prepared for this situation. It was supposed to be a very quick errand. She was to run to his storeroom and get what Madame Pomfrey requested. Seeing as he had just fled from the castle after a duel with the new Headmistress, Hermione hadn’t imagined that she would encounter anyone much less her walking greatest nightmare. Her survival instincts were failing her. She was rooted in place. Unfortunately the witch was correct, since their last encounter on the floor of Malfoy Manor, Hermione thought of little else. Even on the rare occasions she had the opportunity to close her eyes, she had seen the smirk of triumph and wild curls.

“What about when you are with your red headed blood traitor? Can you focus on him? On what he wants from you?”

The muggleborn dropped her head and attempted to regain her breath. Apparently she had already given up on responding. The Death Eater seemed content to conduct a one sided conversation anyways. Any ground she gained in lowering her head, she lost again when an arm snaked around her joining their bodies in a rough embrace.

“But it doesn’t matter what he wants, does it my pet?”

The young witch didn’t mean to respond, but her head shook immediately. Internally she blamed it on being intoxicated by the closeness of the woman behind her. She craved the deprived woman in spite of herself, in spite of her morals.

“I thought not. Has he tried to kiss you? Has he put his filthy hands on you?”

Hermione shuddered in the strong arms, resulting in fingernails digging painfully into her hipbones in punishment. She waited for the dark witch to speak again to break the painful silence. She couldn’t fathom why she felt such suffocating guilt. She hadn’t requested his affection and just barely managed to respond, not wanting to hurt his feelings or field any questions.

“Was my claim on you not clear enough?” Bellatrix hissed dangerously in her ear. “Were you confused about to whom you belong?”

The young witch gulped for air and finally found her voice. “I belong to no one. Especially, not you. You are vile.”

The Deatheater cackled at the response. “Brave words, muddy. It seems you are a foolishly brave Gryffindor after all. But they are just words. Aren’t they?”

Hermione didn’t dare respond. What she wanted to say would be a lie and she wasn’t certain that she could pull it off anyways.

“You will answer, pet. Are they just words?” Bellatrix punctuated each word of the question with a hot breath against the back of the young witch’s neck.

She would wait out the answer. The mudblood had spirit, but she remained confident that she would be obeyed. Their first interaction had been interesting if not overly brief. It had been a bit too public for even the dark witch’s tastes. The girl had been deliciously resistant, only barely bending under her insanity and torture. It was an average interrogation right up until the moment she straddled the young witch. There was a brief moment where lust clouded the soft brown eyes of the witch. Though quickly masked, it was enough for Bellatrix. And so she had staked her claim in the only way that made sense. With her own knife she made her bleed. She branded her knowing no one else would ever suffice.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered after a long pause.

In the moments of silence she debated the pros and cons of her responses. She had so hoped to survive the day and somehow she doubted that her defiance would buy her such a luxury. After all she was wrapped in the woman’s strong arms. Bellatrix hadn’t yet bothered to take her wand back, but really it was only a matter of time until she did. And the young witch didn’t think she would be able to take the former prisoner in a physical fight.

“Very good, pet. You'd best not forget. It will be key to your survival.”

“I won’t beg you to spare my life.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Bellatrix chuckled in response. “No, mudbaby. I am not planning an attempt on your life. Contrary to what you have apparently heard, I care for my things. But in a few hours, being mine will be the only thing that saves you from death.”

Hermione tensed again and nearly thought of fighting to escape the embrace.

“Oh yes, Hermione,” the dark witch whispered dangerously in her ear. “You will lose. Your friends will die. You’ve already been promised to me by my Lord provided I claim you before the Potter boy dies.”

“You came looking for me.” It wasn’t a question, but a plain statement of fact. Hermione was desperately attempting to keep up with the plot, but was so entirely unprepared for the particular situation.

“Severus requested supplies, so it was convenient. Don’t get a big head. I will enjoy having you, but do not think that desire outweighs my other obligations. I am simply taking advantage of an opportunity.”

The young witch blinked. Not being important to the Death Eater inexplicably hurt. She shouldn’t care, just like she shouldn’t be standing as still as possible waiting for the inevitable touch that she craved. She shook her head slightly hoping to clear her hazy thoughts.

“Now now, pet. None of that. The only answer you will be giving me is yes. I hate to start rushing this, but time is still of the essence. And believe me, you will feel so much better when we are done.”

Hermione jerked forward to extract herself from Bellatrix’s arms at the presumption. “You are terribly conceited, you know. I don’t need this or you.”

The dark witch wove her fingers into the curly hair at the nape of the girl’s neck and jerked her forward, bending her over the counter.

“That is where you are mistaken, mudblood,” the Death Eater spat in anger. “You think you know everything, and yet you don’t realize that the reason you’ve been in such agony since you left my sister’s manor is because the spell is only half done. I was claiming you when we were interrupted by that damn elf. Your soul needs me and will never recover until you give yourself over to me. Give in and the agony will end. If you don’t… well. If you don’t, I hope you die in battle. It will be a much more pleasant way to go.”

The young witch groaned at the rough advances. She couldn’t fathom why it felt so good or why she craved more.

“Think hard, Hermione. I know you want this. I can feel your entire body reacting to me, but you must realize it. Your nipples are hard and your panties are wet, aren’t they? You like being facedown and at my mercy.”

The young witch held her breath trying not to react to the calm seductive words. It was clear that the older witch was a master manipulator. It was clear now that she was nowhere close to as insane as the world believed her to be. Rough hands pushed the hem of her jacket up revealing the wand tucked into her waistband. The hand in her hair didn’t waiver, but the other fingertips danced over the small of her back gently before dipping in and withdrawing the wand.

“You haven’t been entirely honest, have you?” Bellatrix tucked the wand into her robes. “You brought this back to me, even if it was subconscious. Did you know you were coming back to me? Or could you simply not bare to part with my wand?”

“I needed it for your vault. And I haven’t exactly had time to go shopping recently,” Hermione responded harshly.

Mouthing off resulted in her head being wretched back while her body was held firmly in place by the weight of the other witch.

“Do not lie to me,” she growled.

For the first time since the door to the storeroom opened, Hermione was truly frightened. Being sane did not mean that the Death Eater was predictable. And she had found a tipping point. If she misstepped now, her life would likely be forfeit.

“I couldn’t let it go,” she finally answered in a small voice.

She was immediately rewarded with fingers stroking through her hair even as her head was held at an awkward angle.

“Good, pet. That is very good,” Bellatrix said distractedly.

“And I don’t understand any of this,” Hermione continued. She kept her voice as steady as she could manage. Though she was clearly at a disadvantage, she didn’t have any desire to appear weak. “But your assessment was correct.”

Lips and teeth latched none too gently on the skin of her neck nearly hard enough to break the skin, making her body roar with arousal.

“Don’t you see how simple this is, muddy. Be honest and get rewarded. Lie and life will be very uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Hermione gasped. A possessive hand was now stroking her body through her clothing. It snaked between her legs cupping her clothed center.

“I can feel how ready you are for me.”

The young witch attempted to press more firmly into the touch in desperate need of friction. The hushed demanding tones were wreaking havoc on the little resolve she had. Paired with the close contact and overtones, she was a fraction of a step away from being putty in the witch’s hands. Clever fingers moved to the front of her pants easily releasing the button and pulling the zipper down. In response her body was practically vibrating with desire.

“Stay where you are, muddy,” Bellatrix said, releasing her hair and tugging the jeans and underwear down to the girl’s knees. Bent over with her feet shoulder width apart was enough space for the Death Eater to maneuver, but it kept her pet deliciously captured. She ran her nails up the pale thighs and over the firm ass of the immobilized witch noting the pronounced shudder. “I can smell how much you want me. I never would have thought someone with such dirty blood could smell so good. Now ask nicely. Ask me to finish the spell. Ask me to take you. Ask me to keep you.”

“Fuck, Bella,” Hermione moaned surprised at her own use of a nickname for the intimidating woman behind her. “Merlin. I need…” Her voice trailed off. She could hardly think with ten fingers stroking her close to where she needed contact, but not quite.

“Tell me pet, what is it that you need?”

“You,” the young witch sobbed.

“So you do.” The dark witch returned one hand back to the girl’s head, holding her flush against the counter while trailing the other through the distinct wetness between her legs. She delighted in the moan and subsequent squirming.

“Please,” Hermione gasped on the edge of desperation. The spell the woman held over her was intoxicating and maddening. She felt like her entire being was consumed with need for the witch.

“Please what, pet? You must say it. I do not care if you feel ashamed or humiliated. You are my property and you will do as I say.”

Hermione flushed a deeper shade of red at the inflammatory but incredibly sexy threat. She bucked her hips trying to get more contact without success.

“Damn you, evil witch. Stop teasing me and fuck me,” the young witch finally commanded.

Bellatrix smirked and drove two fingers hard into the wet depths. She slowly withdrew them completely and slammed them back in. The young witch instinctively adjusted the angle of her hips to allow a more thorough ravishing.

“You will pay for your lack of decorum later, pet. I never forget. And you will struggle to sit for a week for your lack of manners.”

Hermione moaned loudly and moved her hips in time with the hand penetrating her, unable to think of a response.

“I knew you would love this, muddy. You were made for this. For me. Your little Weasel was never able to get you so wet was he? He never made you crave him. Did you think of me doing this the last time you let him have you?”

The young witch sobbed at the cruelty. She attempted to move away but only succeed in placing her throbbing clit in the path of the hand pumping in and out of her, pushing her closer to climax.

“You belong to me, Hermione. You are mine,” Bellatrix growled pushing harder. “Give yourself to me now, pet. Come for me.”

Hermione wanted to resist the command and assert her independence, but every cell in her body was screaming for the sadistic woman. In a moment of blinding clarity, she let it all go. All of the responsibility, worry and pain seeped away from her. There was nothing but the rhythm of her lover’s hand and the clear command. In that moment the tension in her stomach hit is peak and spread in waves through her body.

The Death Eater continued her relentless pace and she felt the muscles around her fingers contract beautifully. She knew the witch below her would be too overcome by the sexual release to feel the magic flowing between them. But never the less it was done. The girl was permanently hers. Somewhat reluctantly she pulled her fingers out and placed them on the witch’s lips.

“Don’t be daft. Clean them,” she commanded in a disinterested voice. She was pleased with the speed at which the witch complied. She tugged her up by the hair, forcing her to stand. “Put your clothes back on. We have things to do.” She turned to start collecting the potions Severus sent her to collect.

“We,” Hermione croaked in disbelief.

Bellatrix rounded quickly, grasping the girl by the throat and pressing her against the nearest wall. “What part of ‘you now belong to me’ are you confused about?” she sneered. “You are my property and you will do as I say.”

Hermione stared at the fire in the dark eyes and couldn’t deny the urge in her gut to obey. She lowered her eyes and relaxed her body hoping it would convey her submission.

“Better. This is the list of what we are looking for. Find the last three. Then we really must be getting back to the forest.”

“I… I can’t. I can’t betray them.”

“You already have,” the dark witch answered bluntly. “You bound yourself to me.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Hermione shrieked.

“I never said you did. But it doesn’t matter now. It's done. Do as I say. You won’t be able to be away from me when I tell you to be close. The spell will punish you. You will suffer and die.”

The young witch stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief.

“And further more, you made the decision you really wanted to from here.” Bellatrix lightly tapped her chest. “It's best you accept what you have done. They will lose today and you will survive. You will live at my knees as my pet. There are far worse fates. There were others who hoped to claim you as a spoil of war.” She finished her speech with a level of disinterest while snatching a bottle from the shelf. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as her witch slowly found the three potions and held them out to her.  
“Very good, pet.” She cupped the girl’s face. “Do as I say and I will keep you safe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel like I clearly communicated that I wouldn’t be doing this, however, here we are. I have moved the status from complete to in progress. I gave into peer pressure (oh yes, you know who you are) and we will continue. It feels quite odd to have two on going works in the same pairing at the same time. We’ll see how it goes.
> 
> I suppose this is where I ought to do a few disclaimers as we are going forward. Obviously this will be canon divergent. We were canon in Deathly Hallows until Snape left the grounds after the duel with Minerva. I will play with bits and pieces of the original plot as it suites me, but I will be changing things.
> 
> To that end, our lovely members of the dark side will be OOC, because JK wrote them so incredibly evil changes were necessary for me to be able to do anything with them. This is a dark A/U, so don’t expect sunshine and roses all the time. But I also promise to carefully label whenever we get close to anything that might offend.
> 
> Thank you to Uniquely Named for being a wonderful beta. (Even when we fundamentally disagree about my choices of characterization.) :)

Bellatrix took the potions from the girl’s shaking grasp, tucking them into the pockets in her robe.

“Listen,” she started sharply, expecting the girl to look up at her. When the young witch continued to stare across the room she gripped the girl’s chin firmly until their eyes met. “Look at me when I speak to you. Had my plans gone well the first time, we would have had time to go over all of the changes now that you belong to me.”

The dark witch watched brown eyes blink rapidly in confusion.

“Right, well I suppose you don't know any of the details of the spell, do you? The only details would be in the restricted section. It's both complex and considered dark magic. You haven't been sneaking in that section again have you, pet?"

"I... No... I haven't been at school. How did you know?" Hermione was genuinely perplexed.

"You will find that there is little I do not know. Simply put, I bound our magical souls. Though, it is not exactly equitable. I can live without you, but you will not be able to live without me. I have full control over your magic now. You won't be able to use it against me unless I will it."

Hermione's jaw dropped open and fear shook through her. Not only was the Death Eater speaking to her like a normal bloody person, but she sounded almost like a professor.

"Don’t be so confused, mudbaby. You are not the first to have been called the brightest witch of her age. I am the standard by which things are set. Do they no longer teach occlumency? I wasn’t even attempting to enter your mind.”

“They never got around to teaching my year. Our Defense Against the Dark Arts training was a bit inconsistent,” the young witch answered dejectedly.

“Yes. I suppose it has been. But never mind, you will be well versed in the Dark Arts soon enough. Philosophically, I have always been of a mind that magical pets are more useful when able to serve fully. But it will be my choice, not yours."

"You want my magic?"

Bellatrix dramatically rolled her eyes. "I chose you specifically, muddy. Any other pet would have been an insult to my own abilities. You aren't the most powerful witch, though we can work on that to some extent. I am not entirely clear on how your blood status effects that, but I suppose we'll find out. But one cannot create intelligence. It would not do for me to have an idiot following me around."

Hermione closed her mouth and leaned back against the counter for support.

"I also control what you can tell others. It works similarly to a secret keeper oath. The bond itself will monitor it, but I would not recommend trying to get around it. I suspect betrayal would be rather unpleasant for you. Do you understand?"

"I think so?"

The dark witch growled and grabbed the front of Hermione's shirt until there were mere centimeters between them. "I know you are new at this, mudblood. But listen very very carefully, as I do not wish to repeat myself. When I ask a question I expect a direct answer without delay."

The young witch found the quiet calm tone to be more dangerous and frightening than the angry shouting the woman was famous for.

"Let's try this again. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

"Good. We must get be getting back to the Dark Lord. Take that cloak there off the wall and pick up your bag. It won't do for you to freeze. When we arrive, you will stay behind me at all times. Keep your eyes down. Speak to no one but my sister. If I am called upon to take action without you, you will stay with her. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Take this," she said holding out the girl's wand. "Do not take it out unless it is life or death. Some of the Dark Lord's followers might take it upon themselves to disarm or punish you. And that would be problematic for a number of reasons."

Hermione grasped the familiar wood in her hand reverently. She never expected to hold her own wand again.

"Now don't get sentimental. There isn't time. Come." She reached out her arm.

The brunette hesitantly stepped towards the witch and nervously gripped the strong arm. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a smirk playing across the beautiful features. She pressed her eyes tightly closed just as the pull of apparition took over her body. When her body finally stopped moving, she clung to the dark witch’s arm until it was firmly pulled away. She slowly opened her eyes. The familiar trees of the Forbidden Forest rose high around her. The dark witch stepped slightly in front of her looking rather intimidating and entirely different than she had in the storeroom. It occurred to Hermione that this shift was likely very important, but she didn’t have the energy to contemplate such things when she was being circled by Death Eaters with wands drawn.

“Put them down,” Bellatrix barked at the approaching group. “Now!”

The young witch noted that the female Death Eater had yet to raise her own wand, a clear sign that she believed her own skill to be far superior. As she had been speaking, Narcissa moved slowly closer until she was near enough to pull Hermione to safety. There was clearly a good deal more preparation that had taken place than Bellatrix was letting on.

“Do as she says,” a hissing voice wafted over them.

Obediently wands were lowered to their owner’s sides.

“Now, go prepare yourselves. I imagine we will be having visitors soon.” The crowd dispersed switly at his command leaving the three woman standing alone. “I see you got what you were looking for, Bella. I trust that you also managed to get the potions I requested.”

“Yes, of course my Lord,” she said fishing them out and handing them over.

He tucked all but one away in his own robes. “We have a spy, you know.”

“We… What, my Lord?”

“Severus has been playing both sides for years. I’d been looking for a time to tell you when you couldn’t go off firing spells at him.”

The dark witch tensed at the statement. She hated hypocrisy and had since she was a small child. And the wizard was absolutely correct, she wouldn’t have hesitated to crucio the greasy little idiot into madness.

The Dark Lord smiled knowingly and then motioned to Hermione. “I presume that you managed to complete the spell?”

“I did, my Lord.”

“And she gave herself to you willingly?”

The curly haired witch straightened proudly. “She did.”

“Curious,” he responded. “Show me that it is done.”

“Pet, tell him where you got that cloak.”

The young witch opened her mouth with every intention of simply stating that it was Professor Snape’s and that she took it from the store room. But the sound died halfway up her throat, coming out as a strangled whimper. She looked to Bellatrix in desperate confusion. She literally could not speak even though she wanted to. The dark witch leaned indecently close to her body and whispered in her ear, "Good girl.” The spell controlling her ability to speak had clearly done its job.

“Very impressive, Bellatrix,” he hissed. “But will she talk?”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. The moral consequences of what she already gave into today were beyond her comprehension, but willingly telling Voldemort everything, that just seemed a bit much.

“She will,” the dark witch answered firmly. “I will let you choose the method. Based on our interaction today, I believe that it is possible for me to train her to be a willing and powerful pet. But there are many ways to get information. I do not think she is quite willing to simply tell us everything she knows, perhaps in time. Her mental barriers are weak. You, in particular, would have no problem getting into her mind. There is torture. Though the last time I tried that it had rather the opposite effect, honestly.”

“Would you allow me to use veritaserum on your pet?” he finally asked, cutting off her seemingly endless list of suggestions.

It struck Hermione as odd that he would even ask her permission. 

“Of course, my Lord. Though I will warn you, I am not all that familiar with her. I really don’t have any idea what she is going to say.”

“Then perhaps it will be both entertaining and informative.” He handed over the vial of potion he had been toying with as they spoke.

Bellatrix palmed it and smiled mischievously at him. She circled Hermione, who felt rooted to the floor. The young witch was frozen in place, equal parts appalled at her lack of fight and intrigued at what the mercurial witch might want to know. She tensed when the witch stopped behind her and pressed the entire length of her body against her back. As arms circled her waist, she felt her body relax and lean instinctively into the embrace. Inexplicably against her better judgement, she felt safe in the Death Eater’s arms. She felt foolish and wondered if the potion was really even needed. She seemed to be defenseless against Bellatrix’s charm or spells, it was impossible to distinguish. She flinched in something like pleasure as a warm open palm was placed on her stomach, holding her securely against the woman who captured her. The woman’s other hand pressed the potion into Hermione’s insistently. Soft lips brushed her ear as the woman spoke.

“Drink the potion, mudbaby. Be a good girl and do as I say,” Bellatrix cooed softly. She smiled at the subconscious nod and immediate movement of the hand holding the vial. She traced her hand up the arm to the soft bushy hair. She wove her fingers through it, pulling it back against her shoulder forcing the young witch to tilt her head back. It was an extremely attractive angle. The pale soft neck was exposed in vulnerable offering, practically begging to be kissed. She watched in satisfaction as the glass container raised to lips in spite of a slightly shaking hand. The dark witch gave into the urge to caress the pale skin as the potion slid down her pet’s throat. 

Hermione could barely think beyond the seductive delivery of the potion. Her skin buzzed everywhere those devious hands touched her and several where they did not. She thought she might fall apart when red lips pressed into her neck. She was unable to contain a whimper of desire and the urge to sink further into the strong arms. Apparently the stupid bloody potion worked quickly and meant she couldn’t lie to herself either. Fantastic.

“She does appear to be most willing,” the wizard said clearly amused.

Hermione tensed at the statement. His voice was a clear reminder of where she was and who she was with.

“Oh this is so fucked up,” she groaned unhappily. She righted her head to be met with a smirk from Voldemort and a cold appraising look from Narcissa.

“Do continue, pet,” Bellatrix coaxed over her shoulder.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Hermione almost shouted. “I shouldn’t be with you. Any of you. I shouldn’t have left the castle. My friends. Oh merlin, I betrayed my friends. They’ll never speak to me again, if they even survive.” The young witch clamped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop the words from spilling from her lips. A tear streamed down her face in grief.

“Now now, Miss Granger,” the Dark Lord said in his most soothing and kind voice. “There must be a reason why you are here. Tell me, why.”

“Because I wanted her,” she growled. Her eyes went wide at her own words. “I couldn’t resist her. I didn't want to.” She clenched her jaw, reminding herself she only had to answer the direct question.

As if on cue he continued. “Why didn’t you want to?”

“Since she tortured me, I couldn’t think of anyone else, of anything else. I either wanted it to end or wanted it to never stop. I couldn’t live in limbo any more.” Tears now ran freely down her face. The arm around her waist steadied her as the other played gently in her curls. “And her offer…” The sentence was broken by a full body sob. Hermione attempted to bend in half, but was held securely up. “It was too good. I could have what I wanted. I never get what I want. I am always just the convenient intelligent girl. Only worth as much as the last book I read, never really wanted. Certainly not desired.”

“And you think Bellatrix desires you?”

“I don’t know, but at least she is honest about how this will work. The lines are clearly drawn.” Hermione was near hysterical by the end of her sentence. She took solace in the possessive near painful hold on her body and the quiet shushing sound in her ear. Whatever it was between herself and the dark witch was tangible and real.

“Then you are truly committed to her?” he continued his line of questioning. While he was fascinated by both the magic used and the motivation of the witch, his real goal was to get her talking. This clearly had to be dealt with before she would tell him what he really needed to know. In all honesty, he would have preferred to allow this best lieutenant the opportunity to lead this emotional processing, but there simply wasn’t time. And the girl would have her uses, both for her information and for her connection to Bellatrix.

“I must be,” she answered as though perplexed at the reality of her answer. “I understood the choice I was making.” In spite of the bravery of her words and realizations, her body was trembling. Her free hand clung to the dark witch’s cloak, grappling at some sense of security. “I am ashamed that I betrayed them. But I am even more ashamed that I still would make no other choice.”

“Miss Granger, in your new life you must understand that there is no reason to feel shame. The choice you made to belong to the most powerful witch of our age will be greatly respected once the war is over. You will be feared as an extension of her. You will be allowed to live with magic and in comfort as a muggle born. You mustn't feel guilt over taking up an appropriate place in the new world. You are a brave witch. Do not doubt that.”

Hermione relaxed at the comforting words from the most feared wizard in England. The irony wasn’t lost on her, but his argument was so reasonable, so convincing and said with such conviction. She was beginning to understand how he managed to amass such a large group of followers. She breathed deeply. There was no going back in time now, no other path available to her. All decisions had been taken entirely from her. To find peace, she only had to give in.

“Tell him what the Order has planned,” Bellatrix commanded. She had allowed her Lord to lead the conversation until she felt the girl submit in her arms. Under different circumstances she would have celebrated the sweet moment. The stubborn and strong witch had surrendered to their future without violence. The sadness and regret was to be expected, but happily the girl continued to show great potential.

“This is their last stand,” the girl whispered. She felt the air shift as both Voldemort and Narcissa stepped closer to hear her quiet words. “They have the rest of the horcruxes.” Her eyes went wide in terror. She wasn’t sure if that was a secret among his followers. And though she couldn’t control her mouth, she still feared being punished or killed for it.

“It’s alright,” he said soothingly. “They already know. Go on.”

“We already destroyed the locket. Ron has the cup and Harry is looking for the Ravenclaw item. Don’t know what that is exactly, but we think it is in the castle. And that only leaves the snake. Then Harry can kill you.”

“But I have the Elder wand. What does he have to combat that?” The Dark Lord’s voice had a perplexed quality Hermione hadn’t heard before.

“The resurrection stone and invisibility cloak,” she answered bluntly.

“Then all I must to is separate him from those items and the rest of the Order.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking,” she rambled before she could stop herself feeling the full effects of the potion on her. “You know about his connection to you?”

Voldemort nodded slowly. He had used it to his advantage in the Department of Mysteries and a few times since with great success.

“It just happened, didn’t it? Harry didn’t initiate it and I’ve been guessing you didn’t either. Because you don’t seem to control it all the time. Which can only mean one thing…”

“You think he is a horcrux,” the wizard whispered in a deadly quiet voice.

“I don’t know any other way to explain it,” she answered sadly.

“That complicates things,” he said pensively.

“May I offer a suggestion, my Lord?” Bellatrix spoke firmly. He waved his hand indicating she should continue.

“We should still lure the boy out of the castle as you planned. We can still attempt to kill him. If it doesn’t work we can always find a way to contain him. But instead of staging a final battle, we should go in search of the objects and bring them to safety. If Potter doesn’t die today, he will die eventually. And taking down a few of his followers would be… satisfying for the troops.”

“Astute, as always Bellatrix,” he said. “I have something to take care of down at the boathouse. Call the inner circle, tell them of the change of plans. But leave the masses as they are. We need them to create chaos.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she answered immediately. After she watched him stride away, she turned the witch in her arms so that she could look directly at her. She wove both hands through the girl’s hair and down her shoulders enjoying how eyelids fluttered even at the most innocent touches. She cupped the young face gently. “Very well done, pet. I am pleased with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

"When will it wear off?" Hermione's voice was hesitant. She feared her question could be easily mistaken for insubordination. And while that wasn't entirely out of the question at some future point, she didn't have any desire to face consequences when she didn't mean to misbehave.

"Afraid you will say something you shouldn't to me, pet?" Bellatrix prodded curiously.

"No," the young witch said without pause. "I imagine you will learn everything you want to know in your own time. I don't want to embarrass you or me. I can't really control anything that is coming out of my mouth right now."

The dark witch cackled. Hermione found it beautiful and intoxicating. She furrowed her brow at her own reaction. This intense reaction was borderline ridiculous. Even in her own head she sounded like a lovesick puppy. Dark twinkling eyes found hers. A smile graced the red lips before she put distance between them.

"You continue to impress me. Your wisdom about how to deal with this situation and me is refreshing. I expected far more childishness."

"I don't fancy dying stupidly. If it's my time, then fine. But no reason to suffer due to being an idiot."

"As I said." Bellatrix turned to where her sister was standing only a few feet away. "Do you have the antidote with you?"

"Of course," Narcissa replied stepping towards the witches.

"No such thing exists," the young witch said in utter disbelief.

"Oh my dirty girl. There is so much you don't know. So many things not taught in school. So many potions that circulate only among the purest families. There is magic you can't even dream of. Now open."

The manicured nails tapped her chin and obediently Hermione did as she was told. The nails trailed tantalizingly down her throat as the witch lifted the potion to her lips. The young witch closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to remember to breathe.

"Are you certain that will work on a mudblood?" The icy voice of Narcissa broke the intimate moment and Bellatrix moved away from the witch a fraction.

"I believe so. If not, I will have to magically silence her. Last thing I need tonight is a pet that cannot keep her mouth shut."

Hermione looked at her, offended that she would even think such a thing. Obviously she was smart enough not to put herself in danger. Had she not just proved that exact point. The pureblooded witches ignored the girl's reaction.

"If you'd picked a more compliant and trained pet it wouldn't have been a concern," the blonde hissed.

"Yes yes, Cissy. So you have told me a hundred times. But as I have told you, if I am going to all of this trouble then I am going to have the pet I want. And she has been impressively good so far."

The young witch watched in confusion as the curly headed witch pouted and batted her eyes at the blonde.

"You've always been good at getting what you want," the blonde finally said, shaking her head.

"Don't forget how rarely wrong I am."

"Your stint in Azkaban ruins that argument, sister."

"Oh one tiny slip up," Bellatrix said waving the comment off.

"One that almost cost your life. Do you remember how much healing I had to do when you turned up on my doorstep?"

"Yes, and I will be forever grateful." The dark witch stepped towards the blonde, cupping her face and gently kissing her cheek. "However, we will have to rehash our past at another time. We have a busy evening ahead. Would you like to test and see if our potion worked?"

"You won't interfere with your bond?" The blonde seemed genuinely curious.

"I suppose not, but truly I think that it will have worked. Carry on."

The blonde turned slowly to the young witch, assessing her with chilly blue eyes. "Miss Ganger," she said waiting for the witch to look up at her before she continued. "What is it that you want so badly from my sister that you would abandon your friends?"

Hermione pursed her lips. She had expected the blonde to be cruel. After all she raised Draco Malfoy and he was among the worst of the bullies at Hogwarts. She stared defiantly into the deep blue eyes, but said nothing. It was a very good question, but the blonde was in no position to demand an answer for it.

"Well well, that's quite the little staring contest." Bellatrix placed a hand on the girl's head and forced her to lower her gaze. Her other hand closed tightly around the young witch's forearm, nails digging in lightly. "Remember your place, pet. While I like a bit of spirit, others may well be intimidated by it. I won't have you carelessly putting my property in jeopardy."

Hermione remained tense under her touch, but did not attempt to move away.

"It appears as though I was right again, Cissy," the dark witch said smiling brightly. "She held her tongue."

"You still have a great deal of work to do with her. Your husband would have done her severe damage just for that look. Don't be foolish, Bellatrix. Don't let the little idiot get you killed."

"I won't, Cissy," she hissed angrily. "I am not your husband. I do not fail. She will be an asset. Now, either be quiet and allow me to speak or go elsewhere."

The blonde glowered at her sister but closed her mouth. She looked angrily at the girl staring at her feet.

"Pet, I need you to listen very carefully."

Hermione looked up slowly. She thought she saw a glimpse of pleasure flash across the dark witch's face before she schooled her features. The young witch nodded slightly indicating that she was paying attention.

"Keep in mind that there is no one you will be able to share this information with. I am telling you, because I plan on having you kneeling by my bed tonight. I don't want to spend weeks tending to your injuries."

Hermione attempted to comprehend the implications of what she was hearing. While the dark witch's justification was remarkably bigoted, it didn't entirely remove the underlying fondness. Not to mention what being desired by the sensual witch did for her ego. She was well liked enough by her friends, but hadn't been so eagerly pursued. Even Ron's attentions were half hearted at best.

"The battle should be underway now. We will likely be involved later, but there are more expendable wizards and witches testing the ability of the Order to protect the castle. After we've done a little damage, the Dark Lord will offer Potter a deal. The boy for everyone else. If he surrenders, we will deal with the rest relatively generously."

Hermione looked crestfallen.

"You believe he will agree, don't you pet?"

"Of course he will. He's always been foolish."

"So he has," the dark witch said raising an eyebrow. "Though now for the first time in your life, you stand to benefit from his thoughtlessness. Do not forget on which side of this war you stand. Your old life is gone."

The young witch struggled to blink back tears. She didn't exactly regret her decision, but that didn't dissolve the feeling of loss of everything that was once normal to her.

"My Lord will attempt to kill him. If what you say is right, it may not work. But I think the battle will likely still go on. And when that happens, you will fight at my side."

"Against my friends?"

"No. In defense of your Mistress. In the hierarchy of things, you must be able to comprehend that I rate a bit higher. You will fight at my side. This is not a point of negotiation. Do it willingly or I will force you. Either way I will get my way."

"What if it doesn't go to plan?" the young witch whispered with eyes cast down. "What if we lose? What then?"

The dark witch stepped back into her personal space stopping only when their bodies were just barely brushing. "Afraid that you will lose me so soon?"

Hermione said nothing, opting to tuck her head into the graceful curve of the witch's neck and inhaling the scent of the curls. She couldn't explain the deep seeded need for comfort and affirmation from the Death Eater.

Protectively Bellatrix cupped the back of her head, holding her in place. "Now now don't fret. I am quite proficient with a wand, as are you. You will end the day on your knees, be sure of that." The dark witch held on just a moment longer until she felt the girl relax a fraction. "A little bit of edge will keep you alert in battle. Use the nerves, don't run from them."

"Hurry up, Bella. We won't be alone for much longer," the blonde witch hissed.

"Now, my muddy girl. Hood up and leave it there. Tuck your wand up your sleeve." With a flick of the dark witch's wrist, the wand stayed just above her right hand. "It will automatically release when you prepare yourself to cast a spell. While we are among the Death Eaters stay behind myself and Narcissa. Do not speak to anyone, particularly Lucius or Rodolphus. They don't approve of my decisions, as usual."

With one final seductive trail of fingers down the girl's arm, the dark witch turned away from her. As she did so, a group of hooded figures approached silently. The tension of the moment was interrupted by one figure throwing off his hood and clapping his hands slowly.

"Very well done, Bellatrix. I see that you got your mudblood bitch after all," the blonde wizard sneered as only he could.

The dark witch stared down at her nails as though bored with the conversation already. "Oh Malfoy, when will you learn that I get what I desire?"

He continued advancing on her intimidatingly, but their wands remained tucked away. "I had no idea you loved being imprisoned so much." He looked over his shoulder to make sure that his friends both saw and heard.

"I may have spent the better part of two decades in Azkaban, and yet your wife prefers my bed over yours." Bellatrix's voice took on a dangerously cutting voice. She bore her eyes into him as though her look alone could set him ablaze. Hermione suppressed a gasp at the statement. There was no doubt in her mind that the dark witch was not referring to innocent sleepovers. She would have to rethink her approach to Madame Malfoy if she was so central to Bellatrix's life. Making her an enemy might be a fatal mistake.

Malfoy turned a particularly deep shade of red bordering on purple at the comment and reached for his wand. Just as he grasped it, the distinct crack of apparition sounded behind him.

Billowing black robes stilled as Voldemort gained his follower's attention. As the final head turned towards him he simply said,

"It is time."


	4. Chapter 4

Lucius immediately took a deferential step back at his Lord’s voice. From beneath the safety of the large hood, Hermione noted that the blonde wizard regarded his leader with more fear than Bellatrix did. She suspected it was more than a matter of simple hierarchy. Though she had no doubt that the dark witch lived up to her reputation for closeness to Voldemort. Their playful banter was almost friendly. But Lucius practically cowered in his presence. She hoped that she might be able to ask what was the cause of his behavior at some point in the future. If her life would from now on exist within this world, she would have to make up some serious ground.

A gentle tug on her arm made her turn her head. The blonde witch subtly crooked a finger summoning her towards her. The chillingly commanding look in her eyes left no room for questioning. Once within reach, Narcissa guided her until she was tucked in a small space between and just behind the two sisters. Based on their heights and the lack of light in the forest at night, she knew she was now mostly hidden, which was clearly the goal to begin with.

Hermione did her best to control her body, but in spite of her significant willpower, she was shaking uncontrollably. Not only was she in the Forbidden Forest at night, but she was surrounded by Death Eaters and in the presence of Voldemort himself. As her trembling began to affect her breathing, Bellatrix took a half step back. The movement caused her back to lightly touch Hermione’s front. The young witch’s first impulse was to step back to make space for the woman, but was stilled by a hand closing around her wrist. The hold was in no way gentle, but the tense possessiveness of it calmed her. She let out a shaky breath. The dark witch apparently felt the sigh as she squeezed slightly in response. With the solid touch, the Gryffindor attempted keep herself calm and pay attention. Voldemort had already been speaking for several minutes.

“As you will all notice, Severus is no longer among us. Like with all betrayals, I offer no forgiveness. Your life will be forfeit. Let this be a warning to you all,” the wizard hissed while pacing in front of his followers.

Hermione felt surprisingly sad at the news. The dead wizard never showed her or her friends much kindness, but she understood that he would be the first in a long list of losses for the day. And the most realistic part of her believed Bellatrix’s assessment of the trajectory of the war. Harry and the Order had been holding on by a thread since the death of Dumbledore. And it had been even worse since they were detained at Malfoy Manor.

“I have already given an ultimatum to those inside of the castle. I expect that the Potter boy will be arriving here within the next half hour. As I deal with him, a portion of our forces will move against the castle to finish lowering the defenses so that we can easily march in. According to my sources, your children, those that chose not to fight with the Order, are locked in the Slytherin common room. Crabbe and Goyle, when we gain entrance, you are to go retrieve them. They should all be willing to fight on our side.”

The two wizards nodded seriously. Hermione felt Narcissa relax beside her. It was natural that as a mother she would be concerned about Draco. Before the young witch could delve further into future potentially awkward interactions with her least favorite blonde, she saw a shadowy figure approach out of the darkness. The hand around her wrist squeezed before releasing. She watched apprehensively as Bellatrix stepped forward to stand just behind her Lord as his second. She watched in horror as the fight initiated and Harry went down. She felt like her stomach dropped out of her body at the thought of her death. She attempted to conceal her horror when Bellatrix made eye contact with her.

“Lucius, go check him. I want to make sure there is not a repeat performance of his survival,” the Dark Lord commanded.

The tension in the forest was palpable as the blonde wizard made his way over to the crumpled body. he crouched down to check for any signs of life. He rose and said quietly, “Dead, My Lord.”

Hermione swayed slightly at the statement, but a sharp elbow in her side made her remember where she was. The blonde witch looked at her in warning. The young woman nodded slightly in understanding hoping it would pacify the witch.

“Very good,” Voldemort smiled. “Get the giant mutt. He can carry the body back.”

Bellatrix strode quickly back, stopping when she was toe to toe with Hermione. “It is time for you to prove to me, little witch, that you understand that you belong to me. Are you clear on what that means?”

“Yes,” Hermione whispered looking directly into the dark eyes.

“You will stay by my side. And I expect you to fight when we get attacked. I will do my best to protect you, but I expect you to pull your weight. I know full well that you are capable.”

“Yes, Bellatrix.”

“Good girl.” The dark witch turned and spoke to her sister in quiet urgent tones as the group started to assemble. Hermione half expected the witch to reach out for a tangible connection and was slightly bereft when the woman chose not to. Instead Bellatrix looked at her for a long moment before subtly indicating that she should follow the two sisters. The dark witch walked proudly to the front of the group with the blonde and brunette witch trailing close behind her. As they reached where Voldemort stood to lead the odd procession, Hermione couldn’t help but notice the growing murmurs around her. Halfway through the crowd a hand reached out and grabbed her arm. The rough unfamiliar voice asked,

“Who are you and where the fuck do you think you are going, love?”

Before she could react, Bellatrix rounded and shoved the tip of her wand beneath the wizard’s chin.

“She is not your concern,” the dark witch growled lowly. “If you wish to keep your life, you will refrain from placing your hands on my property. You would be no great loss to our Lord.”

“Such big words, witch. And yet all I see you doing is talking.”

“Crucio.” The word dripped from the red lips like a familiar prayer. The wizard immediately dropped and writhed in pain at her feet. She watched in dispassionate observation. She held the spell for several moments with impossible ease. She released the spell and turned without a look back. Hermione, who stood calmly by her side throughout the scene, continued following her as though nothing had happened. When they finally reached the front, a slight raising of Narcissa’s eyebrows at her was the only recognition of what had just transpired.

The walk back to the castle was was both tedious and nerve wracking. Hermione did not remember the path being so long and even with such a large group of people they were moving fairly quickly. Her skin prickled with unpleasant anticipation. She was minutes away from coming face to face with her betrayal. She knew that the decision she made had been under duress. The dark witch had cleverly stacked the deck and awaited her opportunity. The dark magic that ran through her made it impossible for her to resist her most basic desires. Not that anyone else would understand. If Bellatrix’s side lost today, Hermione would go down in the history books as the greatest traitor in history. The best friend of Harry Potter, who after 7 years at his side abandoned him for a quick, albeit magnificent, shag in a storeroom and the opportunity to be like property. At the thought alone, her face heated in shame. She capitulated so easily. At last they reached entrance. Without an intentional reveal, Hermione would remain hidden among the throng of hooded followers.

For a few fleeting moments, Bellatrix paused in the group while Voldemort sent another Death Eater to ensure they had an audience. Hermione had stopped close enough to her that she could feel the warmth of her body through their cloaks. It was the first time that the young witch sought out her comfort. She allowed the closeness for as long as she could. Her compliance, but lack of reaction would both communicate her solid presence and her position of power over the witch. Just because Hermione sought her attention did not mean that it would always be given. She was, however, careful not to react in anyway that might communicate rejection. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the Dark Lord communicated that it was time for her to take the stage.

Over the years, her insanity had become legendary. Bellatrix found it quite amusing. Like all things, there was a sliver of truth in the myth. She was short tempered and brash. As a young witch, there were times when she didn’t entirely control her magic. And she had no qualms about being cruel. Her reputation was now her greatest misdirection. She was perceived to be unpredictable and untamed, so her carefully planned and logical strategies caught her opponents off guard. She had the uncanny ability to seek out other’s weaknesses and exploit them indefinitely. And so she played into the silly stories the Order told their children. She skipped like a deranged child, laughing maniacally. She paused mid-cackle to shout something astoundingly offensive yet some how nonsensical about the ragtag group of freedom fighters in front of her. She drew attention long enough for her Lord to position for the rest of the show. She stood, wand drawn, on a taller piece of rubble as the wizard explained to the gathered throngs that the idiot boy is dead and that they should surrender. To her dismay and pleasure, the young wizard bounded rather undead out of the groundskeeper’s chained arms. It was obnoxious that the boy lived, but gratifying that her pet’s information had been dead on. The boy couldn’t be killed by normal means. There would still be a fight today, but it was unlikely that it would be the last of the war.

As the chaos ensued, Bellatrix looked to her Lord for direction. He motioned her closer. In her ear he whispered, “Find whatever horcruxes remain. Ravenclaw is unlikely to have been found.” He moved them quickly to where Narcissa, Hermione and Draco stood in shock. “Narcissa,” he hissed. “As a reward for your loyalty, take Draco and Nagini back to your Manor. Keep her safe. I needn’t tell you the consequences of failure.” He turned to go, but paused to throw over his shoulder. “And say goodbye to your pathetic husband if you must. You will not see him again.”

The blonde witch nodded grimly and looked to her son. He subtly shook his head no and slipped his hand in his mother’s. She reached out her hand in invitation to the large snake. With a surprising amount of grace, the large head came down gently on her palm. Narcissa looked meaningfully at her sister before apparating the small group away. 

In the chaos, Hermione had been swept away from the group by the running hordes of people. Her hood was knocked back unexpectedly, but in the mayhem no one seemed to notice it or her. She bumped head long into a familiar blonde.

“Oh Hermione,” Luna said dreamily. “There you are. But you are different.”

“Luna,” the young witch gasped in surprise. “Where is everyone?” She tried desperately to seem normal.

The young blonde regarded her for a long moment. “Everywhere,” she answered truthfully. “We didn’t get as far as we should have before this happened. He couldn’t find it.”

“The Ravenclaw object?”

“He got frustrated and went to the forest,” Luna answered with a shrug. “It could have been worse.”

“Yes,” Hermione responded through gritted teeth. “Any idea what he was looking for and where? Maybe I would have more luck?”

“You might,” Luna said eyeing her again. “The lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“Lady Grey,” the brunette breathed out in understanding.

The blonde nodded before she wandered off again into the fray with her wand drawn. She fired off powerful spells in her dream like state. Her style was a mystery to Hermione as it had always been. The young witch spun around to find Bellatrix. In the ocean of disarray, she couldn’t help but seek out the one thing that seemed constant. Naturally she nearly ran into her as well.

“What was that?” the brunette drawled darkly.

Hermione panicked and language abandoned her. She traced her fingers down the woman’s arm and raised the wand to her own temple. “Look,” she implored.

The sensation of Bellatrix invading her mind was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was an amalgamation of pain and pleasure so twisted around each other that she could not separate them. She clung to the wrist she still held, needing to be closer to the witch.

The dark witch moved through her with precision, finding the moment she was looking for. As soon as it ended she withdrew gently, leaving the young witch breathless. Bellatrix watched with edification as the chest of the young witch rose and fell quickly and pupils dilated. She was a delightful specimen. 

“Very well done,” the dark witch said with a foreign amount of affection. Knowing they needed to move quickly, she didn’t act on her desires. She could hardly contain her desire to have the girl again. To own her, to mark her, to make her scream, but there wasn’t time now. So instead she gently lifted the hood back in place. “I want you to be able to move in secret. Now stay with me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears. Thank you all so much for the support. You are all lovely.
> 
> Just a gentle reminder that this is a dark au and there is a war on. So naturally, not everyone will survive. Some of it will be canon compliant, some will not be.
> 
> Cheers!

Bellatrix moved quickly through the courtyard towards the castle. She went confidently knowing she would be followed. She sensed Hermione releasing the wand into her hand. It was incredibly out of character for her to place trust in anyone but her sister. Yet this young talented witch was an exception. The dark witch could feel the young woman’s devotion to her. It was far more delicious than she could have imagined when she first read about the spell years ago. No spell could create such dedication, but it certainly could enhance it. The bond she shared with the young woman brought such feeling to the surface and quieted others.

An idiotic student stepped in front of the Death Eater just as she was about to cross the threshold to walk into the entrance hall. The clear determination on his face suggested he was about fire a spell. She hit him with a depulso charm throwing him across the room with force. She felt Hermione stumble for a moment, before catching herself and following more closely. For being one of the most infamous faces in the war, Bellatrix was able to move through crowds without garnering attention when she was of a mind. She threw non-lethal spells, mostly moving others out of the way as she moved quickly. At just shy of a run, the two witches made their way through the castle. At the top of the 3rd landing, Hermione could no longer contain her curiosity and whispered urgently.

“Where are we going?”

“To the place where things are hidden.” The dark witch replied in a tone that clearly implied the witch should have known the answer to her own question.

“How do you know it is there?”

Bellatrix growled in annoyance. “I don’t know, pet. I just do. I don’t want to waste time looking for that stupid ghost, particularly if that is where all of the little children are going to be.”

“You know they are quite literally my age, right? I should be in my 7th year, were it not for this little conflict,” Hermione challenged.

The dark witch rounded on her quickly and pushed her roughly into the closest wall, trapping her with a full body press. “You forget yourself, muddy.”

Hermione couldn’t help the way her body immediately relaxed in the position. It was utterly illogical that the notorious murder elicited such a reaction. She felt safer pressed menacingly into stone than she had in many months. She knew she should apologize for a wide range of reasons, particularly her own personal safety. She didn’t want to address that she worried she might have offended the dangerously beautiful woman. Carefully, so as to not startle the woman high on battle endorphins, she leaned forward and pressed a reverent kiss onto the pale cheek. Her stomach clenched at the light fluttering of eyelashes.

“We don’t have time for this right now, pet. Behave now,” Bellatrix purred seemingly mollified for the moment. She grasped Hermione’s arm to pull her along more quickly as they made their way up to the 7th floor of the building.

They ducked easily inside the room. Hermione couldn’t help being impressed at the ease with which the older woman gained entrance. She wondered how many times during her years at Hogwarts the witch had come here. She was even more enraptured with how Bellatrix searched through the room. She swept methodically across the huge stacks of objects wand raised. Every piece of magic was executed expertly. Hermione rolled her shoulders begging her muscles to relax enough to allow her to focus. She moved in the opposite direction with a similar approach. After ten minutes of fruitless searching, she felt frustration crawling over her skin. They didn’t have the luxury of being about to hear the objects like Harry could. She spun in place. She fought the urge to find the dark witch and stay close to her. She quieted her mind and concentrated. She could feel that Bellatrix was still in the room and was still experimenting with spells. In her quest to catch a glimpse of the dark haired beauty, she peeked around a tall cabinet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw glittering silver. With unexpected anticipation she got on her tip toes and reached far above her head. She was just barely able to reach it. For a long moment she looked down at her hands unable to believe she had stumbled on it.

“Bellatrix?” She asked quietly. She didn’t want to yell. Her instincts were screaming that it wasn’t safe to do so.

“Yes, pet?”

The voice was quite literally inside her head and nearly made her jump out of her skin. She felt inadequate as she could not answer in kind. Instead she continued speaking quietly. “I need you to come here, please.”

“And my sister said you have no manners,” the voice answered jovially. 

Hermione stood still, holding the jewelry securely as though it might try to escape under its own power. She was so focused on it that she didn’t hear the other witch approach. She was only aware of the dark witch’s presence when arms wrapped around her from behind.

“Well well well, look what you found, mudbaby. Aren’t you just as brilliant as promised.” Bellatrix extracted the object from the girl’s grasp smoothly and turned it over in her hands. She secured it inside her robes, muttering spells Hermione had never heard before. She walked around the girl until they were face to face. She looked directly into the chocolate eyes and was pleased to see nothing but lust shining back. The dark witch gathered the girl to her, kissing her soundly in reward.

“Will doing as you wish always result in such decadence?” Hermione asked bravely.

“It depends on exactly how good you are,” the witch chuckled in response.

The Gryffindor shuddered in the strong arms at all that statement could imply. Their moment was suddenly broken by Bellatrix pulling her arms away and grasping her mark.

“He calls. We must go,” she said urgently. She reached out her arm anticipating apparition.

“No,” Hermione blurted urgently earning her a murderous look. “The room. You can’t. It will injure you.” She rushed to finish. “We’ll have to go on foot. This way.” The young witch took off at a run weaving through the piles of abandoned objects without looking back. As soon as they skidded out of the door, she willingly took the offered arm. They landed promptly at the bottom of the grand staircase. The young witch felt to ensure her hood was still in place before she took off after the dark witch. Hermione tried to control herself in the wake of the woman’s wild beauty. In the midst of battle she was impossibly gorgeous.

They wove their way towards the Great Hall. Even from their current position, she could hear the raging battle within. Spells were colliding hard with the stone walls. The young witch tightened her grip around her wand knowing that at any moment she could be faced with very real danger. She was so busy contemplating the danger that surrounded them that she was blissfully unaware of her former friend firing a spell directly at her. The dark witch moved her back while casting a protego that covered them. And in the next moment sent an avada kedavra directly at Tonk’s chest. Hermione watched in horror as the light went out of the witch’s eyes.

Bellatrix’s eyes darted around their surroundings in constant vigilance. She was no doubt marked as a target, but this attack had been personal. It could be no coincidence that her niece attempted to kill her pet mere hours after the spell was complete. When she finally settled her gaze on the girl, she could see the pain and fear even with the large hood obscuring most of her face. “There isn’t time now,” she hissed urgently. “If you must discuss your feelings, we can do so, but it must be later. We must keep moving.”

The young witch nodded in understanding. There weren't even words for the state her heart was in at the moment. She forced herself to focus on on the task at hand. There were so many spells being fired in a very small space. Ironically it was more likely that she might be hit by an errant spell than to be hit in a duel. When at last they reached the Great Hall it was apparent why Voldemort summoned the Death Eaters. He was engaged in a lively battle with Harry. As Hermione had suspected, they were incredibly evenly matched. Neither seemed to be able to do anything to gain the upper hand. The rest of the black clad witches and wizards were scattered around the room. The young witch was utterly perplexed by the apparent lack of organization. Even the D.A. was more ordered than this. It was in fact something she had insisted on. If they were going to be in situations where they were greatly out matched they at least needed the advantage of strength in numbers. Naturally she had been correct. Without their defensive formation, it is unlikely that they would have survived the battle at the Department of Mysteries.

It was obvious that the dark witch had the exact same thought, except for she looked positively livid. Hermione watched as her eyes swept the room evaluating the best strategy to deploy. In a loud commanding voice that made the young witch’s knees quiver, Bellatrix barked coded commands at the Death Eaters present in the room. She turned briefly, dark eyes shining with excitement towards the young witch.

“Defensive spells to allow everyone to get into position. But if anyone comes at you too hard, do use lethal force.”

The dark witch turned her attention before Hermione could answer. From beneath the hood, she started firing well placed protegos around the room in tandem with her Death Eater. She couldn’t help but notice how easily they worked together. How she could practically feel the witch’s next move and was able to compliment it. Though the magic wasn’t complicated, it was giving her a bigger rush than she had gotten since she broke into Bellatrix’s vault and escaped on the back of a dragon. Just as the formation came together a student Hermione vaguely recognized engaged her in a direct duel. She almost hesitated, but didn't want to put herself in another situation where she had to be rescued like some damsel in distress. Ignoring the earlier warnings she did the least damage possible. It was clear from the wild abandon with which the student threw curses that they had no idea who she was. They clearly just wanted to take out one of the Death Eaters and survive the day. As the realization broke over her, she cast a powerful spell throwing the child as far from her as possible. She didn't want his death on her hands. The dramatic move earned a raised eyebrow from Bellatrix, but the heat of the battle soon demanded her attention again.

The Death Eaters fared much better in a familiar formation. The Order was progressively being fought out of the room. A small faction of students broke off from the main fighters and attempted to surround the group near Hermione. With some reluctance she turned her back towards Bellatrix to defend the other side. She disarmed the students one at a time. Without their wands, they went running as quickly as they could. She spun quickly back around sensing something was amiss. The air practically crackled with it. Her speed caused the hood to fall back revealing her face to all in the area. Among the Order there was a great intake of breath, but Hermione didn’t hear it. Her entire attention was focused on the witch who was engaged in a duel with Bellatrix. Time seemed to slow down as she watched Molly Weasley yell out her avada kedavra. Her brain didn’t even process her response. Before the spell could touch the dark witch, a protego swept over her and threw the red headed witch back several paces.

“Hermione?!”

The young witch instinctively looked up as she heard her name yelled in confusion. All eyes were on her.

“What are you doing?” Molly shouted, taking her eyes off Bellatrix. It was to be a fatal mistake.

“Being mine,” the dark witch cackled and without further ado hit the Weasley matriarch powerfully. The life left her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay in the delivery of this chapter and to any of my other works. Real life has been a bit wild lately. Cheers.

The hush that had fallen at the reveal of Hermione's identity in the Great Hall erupted into furious fighting. The Order attempted to reorganize itself after the fall of yet another of its original members. The majority of those left focused their attention on Bellatrix and Hermione. The young witch turned her back to her lover truly trusting for the first time that the witch wouldn't allow her to get injured. The fixation on the two witches left the rest of the Death Eaters unmatched. As a result Voldemort’s followers systematically began picking off the most talented fighters for the light. Within an hour the Order had been greatly diminished. In the midst of the firefight, Harry had been left to battle Voldemort alone. Due to their connection, neither made particularly strong advances. The battle broke down entirely when the Weasley patriarch yelled,

"Order! To the portkey!"

Within seconds the Death Eaters and their Leader stood alone in an empty room, wands still raised. The room collectively took a deep breath before cheering loudly. Hermione froze mouth open. She had no idea that there was an exit strategy. She hadn't considered that they had kept some secrets from her. Bellatrix harshly closed her fingers around the young witch's wrist on her wand hand.

"Put it away, mudbaby. Let's not give anyone a reason to hex you. The immediate threat is gone. I will take care of everything else from here, " she whispered quickly a hair breadth from Hermione's lips.

The young witch could do little more than nod her head and comply with that particular tone of voice. She automatically started to tuck it into her waistband. Her wrist was drug out from under her robes as Bellatrix tisked as she would at a small child. The dark witch took the wand from her, tucking it into her sleeve and muttering a spell.

"Do try and pay attention when I teach you something. I don’t fancy repeating myself for your entertainment."

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.

She was unaccustomed to being so forgetful or outmatched. The dark witch smirked in clear satisfaction at the fear laced sincerity. The Dark Lord stepped in front of the celebrating masses and held his wand to his throat.

"Well done," his voice boomed through the hall. The excited voices instantly stopped and heads turned towards him. Seeing that he had the attention of the room, he dropped his wand from his throat so he could speak again in a normal tone. "Break into teams of two and clear the castle. Stack the dead outside the gates, but keep track. I expect the wards to be set back up. We will keep the castle since they abandoned it. Bella, you are with me. We will take the head master's office first."

He stalked out of the room. Bellatrix followed after him throwing an impatient look over her shoulder beckoning Hermione forward. The young witch struggled to keep up without running.

"That was unexpected," the dark wizard said breaking the silence, ''but convenient. Their symbolic loss of control over the castle is important."

"Do you think we will be able to defend it, my Lord?"

"We have enough power to get the wards back up, but there are obviously some additional entrances that need to be accounted for. But your pet knows where they are. Don't you, pet?''

''Yes," she gasped out before she even processed who made the request.

"Then you will help us dismantle those entrances. Once inside, you will write down the locations and potential protections, understood?"

"Yes, my Lord," she replied uncertainly. She looked at the dark witch quickly enough to catch the flash of a pleased look.

Voldemort led the way into the large office that the young witch would always associate with Dumbledore. However, she did not expect to hear his voice.

''Miss Granger," he bellowed from the frame of his portrait. "What are you doing in their company? Why are you not fighting back?"

''It's complicated, Albus," Bellatrix sneered. "I would be happy to explain it to you later."

The young witch flushed bright red and looked directly at her feet.

"Don't listen to the dead, muddy," the dark witch purred. "Now what do you need to get the information out of your pretty little head?"

''Just parchment and a quill," Hermione answered quietly.

With a gentle flick of her wand, Bellatrix cleared off the surface of the desk and moved writing instruments into the center. She nodded slightly indicating that the younger witch should sit, which she did immediately. Hermione turned her attention entirely to the task in front of her. Concentrating, she closed her eyes trying to envision the map she studied so many times. She wrote quickly not being certain of if she was on a deadline.

After 10 minutes and as many sheets of parchment she finished. She had included everything that she could think of without consideration for what it would do to the Order. The battle changed her view of them all, not that she blamed them. Her betrayal was monumental. Yet the weight of that thought disappeared when her eyes landed on the mysterious witch. Bellatrix brought out every selfish inclination in her. She enjoyed the unencumbered opportunity to observe her at work. Even doing such a mundane task like searching an office, she was a wild powerful beauty. As she ran her hands over random objects in the room, Hermione could not help but fantasize about what it would be like to have those hands on her again. She shivered in pleasure at the thought. The dark witch's touch was her every fantasy come true. She thought she knew desire in her relationship with Ron, but after being at the mercy of her sadistic lover she knew she was mistaken.

As if in tune with the young witch's thoughts, dark eyes turned to find her with a slow grin etched across her pale face. There was no mistaking the look of victory. In a few short strides the beautiful woman was towering over her. Bellatrix invaded her personal space and placed a hand on her shoulder. She leaned down to read the parchment and in the process her curls brushed against Hermione's face. The young witch inhaled sharply enjoying the scent of the alluring Death Eater. She was rewarded with a smirk.

"This is very well done, muddy, You've listed several that I was unaware of. How did you learn of all of these? I was under the impression that you were a swot."

"Just because I like to follow rules at times doesn't mean that I haven't had access to forbidden items," she replied sharply.

For a moment the dark witch gaped at her, but recovered by roughly jerking the witch's head back. "Now, now mudpuppy. Remember your place. What forbidden object showed such information?"

Hermione fought to keep her breathing under control at the obvious show of dominance. The angle her head was held at gave her no choice but to look directly into the captivating dark eyes as she answered,

"There was or perhaps still is an enchanted map. It showed the hidden entrances and the locations of everyone in the castle. Harry got it from the Weasley twins. It was made in part by his father, James, during his school days."

"WeIl that must have been convenient at times."

"It saved our lives many times over," the young witch replied indignantly.

"I care nothing for the survival of your little friends, but I am pleased that I was not denied the pleasure of having you."

Hermione blushed and snapped her eyes shut at the compliment. A shockingly sweet kiss was pressed to the corner of her mouth as the hand in her hair was released. By the time she opened them again, the witch was moving away from her with the parchment in hand.

"This should be very helpful, my Lord," the dark witch preened.

He silently took the small stack of parchment from her and examined it closely. He raised his eyes slowly. "You are confident that she has not lied to you or Ieft anything out?"

Hermione fought to restrain herself. She felt the need to defend her loyalty to the witch. After all, she had given up more than she could comprehend at the moment. Without turning her head, she could feel Bellatrix's eyes boring into her. She listened to the click of the witch's boots as she once again approached where the young woman sat motionless. A rough hand pulled her out of the chair and pushed her to her knees. Hoping to reduce the pressure she leaned into the less than comforting touch.

"Tell him, mudblood. Tell him that you would not dare defy me. "

The dark witch panted the demand in what seemed like both anxiety and arousal to Hermione. She took a calming breath before she continued.

"I would never lie to her, my Lord. While I don't entirely understand the magic, I know that this bond is the only thing in my life that matters now. Without her I am entirely lost. I've written down everything I know and some possible solutions. I am sure that there may be other magical solutions, but I've used the best of my knowledge to supply what I think will work."

Though she was addressing the wizard as requested by Bellatrix, her eyes never left the witch at whose feet she knelt. She didn't enjoy being forced to discuss so openly how she felt before she even had time to contemplate what her feelings were. She silently begged the woman to believe her, but the unreadable eyes were focused elsewhere.

"These suggestions," Voldemort hissed, "are advanced and seem appropriate. Very well done, Bellatrix. Now I need you to return to your sister's home. I do not want the horcruxes within these walls. We will need to find a better way to protect them." He looked at Hermione as he continued. "Apparently vaults in banks are not even safe. Or perhaps they are now."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I will call you when I need you."

"Thank you, my Lord, "she said quietly.

"Oh and Bella?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Don't let Narcissa forget to feed Nagini."

She smiled wryly. "Of course not, my Lord. Come, mudpuppy. We are going home."

Hermione rose slowly to her feet and fell in step with the dark witch. She followed her silently through the familiar corridors. They did not pause until they were outside the castle gates. Much to the young witch's surprise, no one paid even the slightest attention to them. When Bellatrix reached out her arm, Hermione immediately took it and stepped to the witch. Without thinking she had practically wrapped herself in the arm and tucked herself into the woman's side. She would have been embarrassed, but the affectionate chuckle and light squeeze of the arm assuaged her concerns. The familiar tug of apparition pulled at her and she closed her eyes tightly.

Hermione could not repress her reaction of fear at seeing the building again. Her instincts were screaming at her to run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. A strong arm encircled her waist just as she was about to take off.

"Easy, pet. I know what you are thinking about. Take a deep breath." The dark witch moved behind her without letting go. She pressed her body up against the girl's shaking form. She held both of her hands flat against the witch's stomach and rested her chin on her shoulder. "Close your eyes. Think about the end of the spell. You are mine. There is nothing within those walls that can injure you unless I will it."

Hermione placed her hands over Bellatrix's attempting to soothe herself. "And what will protect me from you?"

“Oh my darling pet, there has never been anything that could protect you from me. You've been destined to be mine your entire life. Submit to me fully and no serious harm will come to you. I've already proven I will protect you, just as you have killed to protect me. This is what matters."

"Ok," Hermione breathed out in vague relief.

"Come now. I have business to attend to."

And with that the dark with started quickly toward the manor as though no sweetness had ever passed between the two.


	7. Chapter 7

Malfoy Manor was every bit as intimidating as Hermione remembered it. Even with the fierce protection of the powerful witch at her side, the edifice succeeded in making Hermione feel small. She followed Bellatrix dutifully through the winding corridors. She hadn’t paid any attention to the layout of the house when she had been brought by snatchers and as a result felt entirely lost. When the dark witch finally opened two large doors, Hermione gasped at the room that lay before them. Books lined every wall from floor to ceiling. As she looked up, she noted that it was enchanted much like the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The floating candles glowed casting a gentle light on the warm furnishings. She had never imagined that a family like the Malfoys would have such a comfortable space in their home. She had expected that every room would be decorated with the cold austerity of the area where she had been held and interrogated. It was yet another piece in the puzzle. The sheer humanity of the followers of Voldemort made her feel like her head was spinning.

In front of a blazing fire the large snake laid curled up, not unlike she would expect to see a dog. The coiled mass of snake expanded and contracted slowly with her deep sleepy breaths. Narcissa and Draco were sitting silently staring into the fire with glasses in their hands. If they heard the two witches enter the room, they gave no indication. Hermione followed her lover farther into the room. Bellatrix settled into a large arm chair. Though the dark witch loved violence and the chaos of a battle, it was clear to Hermione that she too was sagging under the weight of exhaustion after the fight. The young witch walked around the chair and lowered herself to the ground. She sat next to the witches legs resting her back against the chair. Absorbed in the silence of the moment, she allowed her head to rest cradled against the chair and Bellatrix’s knee. Almost immediately fingers threaded through her tresses in a slow caress. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes at the comfort.

“Is it done then,” Narcissa asked in a quiet warm tone Hermione had never heard before.

“For now,” the dark witch said slowly. “They retreated and we took the castle. It isn’t over yet. The brat escaped and there are a lot of repairs to do. But we certainly didn’t lose.”

“Were there great losses?”

Hermione opened her eyes at the male voice. She had entirely forgotten that Draco was in the room. She watched his eyes as Bellatrix answered affirmatively. He was more pained than she could remember having ever seen him before. She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of horrors he had faced in the last few years. He was no more the bright arrogant boy he had been than Hermione was the naive bookworm. He caught her watching him and glanced briefly at his aunt.

“Don’t worry about it, Granger. I was informed of your bond with my aunt before you were. The old life is gone and our past with it.”  
Hermione nodded her understanding. She couldn’t formulate any words at the present moment. He had offered her a greater olive branch than she had ever expected. She’d expected the taunting and torture of days gone by, but clearly things would be different from now on. She closed her eyes again and allowed the conversations of the three to flow around her. She slipped her arm around the closest leg clinging to the comfort of the Death Eater’s solid presence.

Bellatrix continued to run her fingers through her pet’s hair after her nephew’s little comment. She was pleased with her little family’s reaction to her plan to claim the witch. They had accepted her use of ancient magic and were supportive. Narcissa’s little fit was more about having to share than it was about anything else. And she had capitulated quickly enough. Even this was overshadowed by the witch huddled at her feet. The dark witch intentionally chose a seat that didn’t provide Hermione with a traditional seating option simply because she wanted to see what she would do. She had expected a delay, a question or a defiant look. Instead the girl followed her closely and settled in on the floor leaning into her. Bellatrix was unaccustomed to the way the simple affection pulled at her heart. There was something about the young witch. She couldn’t resist the temptation to touch the curls that spilled over her robes. The purr that ran through her pet pulled at something else entirely in Bellatrix. The arm that snaked between her legs and clung to her solidified the intensity of the bond the girl felt. But it was the weight of the girl as she drifted off leaning against her that was the most remarkable to Bellatrix. She struggled to keep the conversation flowing. She didn’t expect the girl to bring such sweetness with the bond.

“Bella have you eaten yet,” Narcissa asked Bellatrix pulling her out of her internal struggle.

“No. I haven’t. I suppose she must be hungry as well.”

The blonde witch snapped her fingers and an elf appeared. She dispatched it with instructions. “I think a nice meal outside would be pleasant,” she said to her sister and son. Draco stood rousing the snake. The blondes left the room leaving the two witches for a moment of privacy.

Bellatrix tightened her hold in the girls hair and wrenched her head backwards in direct contrast to the sweetness of the last half hour. “Wake up, muddy girl.”

Hermione blinked the sleep out of her eyes and looked into the beautiful face hovering above her. She made no attempt to physically move away from the dark witch. The harshness of the movement wasn’t entirely unpleasant and it was something she was coming to expect from the woman.

“We are going to eat in the garden.”  
The young witch felt immediately nervous. A meal with others seemed like a situation full of risk. She had no idea what the expectations of her might be or how to behave.

“Now now, muddykins,” Bellatrix cooed running her fingertips soothingly over a furrowed brow. “No need to worry so much. I take care of my things. And one of the beautiful things about being mine is that you don’t have to worry.”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed at the intimacy. She suppressed the questions that were bubbling up in her mind. As much as she wanted information, she wanted the offered affection of the capricious witch more.

“You will sit just as you are now. I will feed you. You will eat. Its astoundingly simple.”

“Ok,” she whispered quietly. She squirmed slightly in discomfort. A large part of her wanted desperately the comfort and security being offered, but it was in such stark contrast to how her life had been for the past year.

“Pet,” Bellatrix said in her famous sing song tone and waited for Hermione to open her eyes. When the brown eyes opened they were clouded with uncertainty. She tugged impatiently at the girl’s shoulder encouraging her to her feet and pulling her into her lap. Even as Hermione straddled her in the chair, she kept her eyes down in an attempt to keep her thoughts and fears to herself. The dark witch grasped her chin to force eye contact. “You must let go of the past. You could drown yourself in the differences in culture, but why. I’ve given you what we both know you want, so stop fighting with yourself. If you must fight, fight me. I assure you that I can take you.”

Hermione’s eyes glazed with unshed tears. It was uncanny how well the witch read her and knew just what buttons to push. After a year of being fundamentally misunderstood by the two young males she traveled with, it was deeply alluring. She wasn’t ready to say anything aloud so settled for pressing her lips gently against the dark red lips in front of her. It might have been too forward, but she longed for the renewed connection. Arms tightening around her and the systematic invasion of her mouth reassured her even more than the words.

“I am glad we have come to an understanding. Now come, it won’t do for us to keep Cissy waiting any longer.”

Hermione nodded and climbed off her lap. Bellatrix looked over her shoulder as if to say stay close.

* * *

 

The back garden of the Manor was astoundingly beautiful. It glowed in the ethereal light of the lanterns. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find a small soft rug at the foot of Bellatrix’s chair. She sunk down leaning into the dark witch seeking the equilibrium only she could bring. As she settled in for the meal, she watched the large snake slither off into the garden in search of dinner.

“Are you certain it is safe to send her off like that,” Draco asked hesitantly.

The dark witch waved her hands dismissively. “Nagini will be fine. She is tougher than most creatures on this planet and no one will make it through our wards. Not than anyone knows where we are.”

Hermione pondered the significance of the last statement. Not that anyone would be looking for her after the big reveal in Hogwarts. There was an odd safety in being hidden away from the wizarding world if only for a short time. It had been such a long time since all eyes had not been on her.

Fingers hovered in front of her mouth offering a small bite of food. The young witch wrapped her lips around both the food and fingers in a gentle caress. She relished the small unexpected gasp from above her at the action. The potato left in her mouth was the most delicious thing she had tasted in ages. Hermione moaned. She had forgotten exactly how much she enjoyed a good meal. She found that she didn’t object to being fed nearly as much as she feared she might. She was fed mouthfuls until she could eat no more. She pressed her face into the flowing skirts inhaling deeply. Though her body was physically exhausted from the lack of sleep and use of magic, she felt like she was vibrating.

The rest of the table echoed her feelings and the meal came to a quick close. Hermione made her way to her feet as Bellatrix rose to her own and followed at her heels. The journey through the house and up the stairs was quicker than she had expected. And the world seemed entirely different when the door to the bedroom shut leaving the two witches alone together. Hermione's eyes grew wide as she watched the witch ward the room from sound and invasion.

“Come, pet. We should get clean and then get some sleep.”

Hermione could not imagine anything sounding better than a bath and bed. Without even a pause she followed the dark witch into the large bathroom. As the older woman was busy filling the tub with water and scented oils, the young witch boldly stepped into her personal space. With surprisingly steady hands she began the process of unlacing the bodice of the dress the beautiful woman wore. She allowed her fingers to touch the soft pale skin of her lover reverently. The tension the other woman carried through the evening seemed to slip away from her. Hermione hooked her fingers in the waistband of skirt and pulled it to the ground. She was unsurprised to find a lack of knickers on the beautiful woman. The young witch struggled not to drool at the gorgeous curves of woman as she settled into the bath.

“Muddy,” the witch called her clearly amused. “If you think you will be getting into my bed unclean beyond your blood, you are terribly mistaken. Strip and get in here.”

Hermione snapped into action removing her clothes very quickly away. She stepped into the bath facing the older woman. The warm water felt amazing against her skin. It had been many months since she had been afforded such a simply luxury. She was surprised at the strong hands tilting her head back into the water massaging her scalp. The gentle touch cleaned her thoroughly as though imbuing ownership through meeting such a simple need, not unlike feeding her by hand. The young witch relaxed into the touch enjoying every bit of the attention she was shown. She was pleased when her own touch was not rejected. She scrubbed skin clean and rubbed sore muscles into tranquil relaxation.

Hermione bravely continued showing initiative leading the tired witch from the bath and drying her by hand with towels. When she was done, she took Bellatrix by the hand walking them towards the bed. In unspoken understanding the dark witch sat on the bed. She raised an eyebrow in interest at what the young witch would do next. Still naked, Hermione knelt between her knees and gazed pleadingly up. Not entirely sure what she was agreeing to, Bellatrix nodded her consent. The young witch gently kissed her way from one knee to apex of her lover’s thighs before repeating the action. She enjoyed the tensing of strong muscles under her touch. Though she wished to linger over every inch of the beautiful woman before her, Hermione understood neither of them had the energy tonight. Confronting her own fears of inadequacy and complete lack of inexperience in pleasing a woman, she tasted the woman who owned her for the first time.

Bellatrix shuddered deliciously and wove her fingers through the young witch’s hair holding her exactly where she needed her. The mudblood continued to show significant promise. The way she had been approached the dark witch lowering herself to the ground looking perfectly submissive. And the warm tongue currently sweeping through her wetness was clearly without experience, but the girl was attentive and eager. The thought of the girl’s desire to please her was nearly enough to send her tumbling over the cliff. If the dark witch was entirely honest with herself, no one had ever looked at her the way Hermione did. In spite of her obvious problematic blood status, the girl saw Bellatrix for who she was, not the multiple facades she constructed around herself. And yet she still wanted her both physically and emotionally. The choice to bind their souls had been impulsive at best. But as two gentle fingers slid all the way into her and lips closed tightly around her clit, it was clear to the dark witch that she had made the right decision. The gentle attentions launched her into a hard climax that had her gasping for breath and collapsing back into the bed.

Even the soft touches were too much contact as the girl worked slowly to clean the mess she had so painstakingly created. The dark witch tugged her hair and drug her up onto the bed. The young witch righted them in the bed and pulled the covers over them. She settled into Bellatrix’s side with her face resting against her neck. The dark witch waved a hand extinguishing the lights in the room. She pressed a kiss into the closest temple.

“Sleep, mudbaby. When we wake the world will be entirely different.”

Hermione’s breathing deepen as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been more than a little hectic of late. I promise that I have not abandoned any of my projects. My updates are just a little (or a lot) slow at the moment.

Heat. Red hot singeing heat was all that Hermione could feel. She opened her eyes and swept them around the room. All she could see was a wall of flames and they were closing in. And then she heard the pained screams. Bellatrix was calling out for her. Begging her to tame the magical fire to save her. But Hermione had no wand and could call no magic into her body. She was entirely powerless. She watched the flames lick at the skin of the woman she loved. She screamed for Bellatrix, telling her to protect herself, not to die, not to leave her. There was a high pitched yell and then an eerie silence save the crackling of the fire. Hermione fell to her knees screaming. She prayed the flames would move quickly. She had been unable to save the only person who ever truly cared for her, loved her. Dying seemed favorable to hearing Bella’s pleas in her head in both sleep and waking hours.

Her head was wretched backwards roughly by an invisible hand and the heat abated. She knew that she could hear someone speaking, but she could not decipher the words or identity of her person over her own mournful wails. She had lost everything. She gave up her old life for the promise of what the dark witch could offer her, only to have it ripped away. She curled in on herself not caring about the pain in her scalp or whoever had cursed her by saving her. She refused to open her eyes. A sharp slap against her cheek finally coerced her back to reality. The pain barely registered as she took in wild curls and dark eyes. She raised a shaking hand to the pale cheek touching it reverently.

“Bella,” she asked in a quiet unsteady voice.

“Of course it is me, pet. Do you have plans to be in others’ beds?” Bellatrix spat the question.

Hermione ignored the accusation, far more concerned that the witch was not an illusion. “Are you real? Is this a dream?”

“Muddy,” she said in a warning tone. “What are you talking about? First you wake me up screaming. You refused to look at me when I command it. Now you want to know if this is real. Are you gunning for punishment or are you simply daft in the middle of the night?”

“Legilimens,” Hermione said quietly in a tone that made it clear she wasn’t making an attempt to cast the spell, but rather suggesting that it should be cast. This was the second time in as many days that she had openly invited Bellatrix into her mind, but the dark witch rendered her so out of sorts that she struggled to communicate. And she was not ready to say anything about the nightmare she apparently just awoke from. At least she hoped that was the dream and not the rest.

“Very well, mudbaby. This had better be good. I do not enjoy being awoken and disobeyed.”

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. She would accept anything the dark witch deemed appropriate if she could just be ensured that this was reality, not the flames. The tip of a wand touched her temple and the young witch relaxed into the Death Eater’s body and spell. As before, Bellatrix moved through her mind with considerable skill. The feeling carried pain and pleasure not unlike the woman’s physical touch. Hermione attempted to keep panic at bay as she felt Bellatrix witnessing her own death and her subsequent reaction. She allowed her desperate thoughts to float to the top of her consciousness laying plain for the witch how she felt in those moments. She was so focused on the world ending pain of the memory that she didn’t feel the dark witch withdraw from her mind.

“Muddy,” Bellatrix cooed in her ear pulling her close. The girl once again didn’t react. Having seen the dream first hand, the older witch could certainly understand how the girl was reacting. She didn’t wish for the girl to be in pain caused by anything but her own hand. There was a satisfying power in her pet’s absolute distress at what occurred in her dream.

Hermione moved her head slightly so that she could look at the dark witch as she spoke.

“That was indeed a nightmare,” the dark witch said slowly so that she could be sure the distraught witch understood each word she said.

“It felt so real. How can you be certain that it was not reality?”

Bellatrix studied the young woman to ascertain if there was any malice or attitude in the question. Finding none she stroked the pale and still damp face. “There were several things that were out of character for me. Of course, you wouldn’t know that yet. You will learn. First, I am unlikely to ever take your wand from you.” She continued to move her hands in soothing motions hoping to quiet the girl enough that they might get back to sleep before the sun rose. “You are far more useful when you are able to defend yourself and my interests. I also have a strong grasp of wandless magic. I could manage a fire even without my own wand.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione said biting her bottom lip nervously.

“But I haven’t even gotten to the most important part, Mudbaby.” Bellatrix rolled herself over on top of the naked woman. Aggression lapped at the edges of the tenderness with which she had been treating the young witch. She lowered her lips to Hermione’s neck alternating kisses and nips. The bites were enough to leave marks. In the coming days she would look fondly at the proof of her ownership. The young witch gasped at the initial movement, but had given herself over entirely to the treatment. Her hips were starting to subtly shift in a rocking motion. “You are never ever allowed to leave me, pet. You belong to me heart, mind, body and soul. We can never be parted. This,” she said slipping her hand between the parted thighs. “This is real. No dream could feel like this.” She drove 3 fingers forcefully into her witch. The young woman moaned at the intrusion and cantered her hips in time. It was clear she was trying to prove out Bellatrix’s words that this could not possibly be a dream.

“You will wake up everyday in my bed or next to it. When and if I die, you will die too. There is no reason for you to worry about living without me. The ancient magic itself prevents it. Afterall you are far less likely to kill your mistress if you will in turn die.”

Bellatrix leaned back to gain better leverage to push herself into her pet. She wanted the words and her actions to sink it. It was truly a shame that the girl hadn’t been raised in the old ways. Perhaps had she not been sent to Azkaban, she would have learned of the girl when she was younger. Cissy could have raised her during the summers and taught her about her future. She wouldn’t have claimed her until she was an adult, but they wouldn’t have been strangers. Hermione would understand what she had committed to. Yet there was beauty in the way that Hermione had handed her life over to the dark witch. She placed an inordinate amount of trust in a woman who had previously treated her with no particular kindness.

The witch was writhing under her rough treatment and leaning into each touch.

“Promise me, Bella. Promise.”

The dark witch kept moving her hand adding a thumb to roughly brush against the firm clit. She weighed her options. It was surprising how little the ancient texts discussed the effect of the bond on the dominant party. She had somewhat naively presumed that there would be no changes to her or her magic. Yet she felt an undeniable draw to the begging witch. And emotions she did not wish to name that she had not felt in many years.

“I will not leave you.” She punctuated each word with a particularly hard thrust. “Not a single day will pass where you question to whom you belong. You are mine, muddy. I care for my possessions.”

“Yours,” the witch moaned beneath her in relief and echoed promise.

“Come for me, pet,” Bellatrix commanded before biting down hard on the pale neck drawing blood.

Hermione screamed her release at the intense pain and dissolved into tears. The dark witch slowed her movements through the orgasm until the last waves ebbed away. She removed her fingers and allowed the witch to burrow into a close embrace.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I know. And perhaps had you not committed to me I would have been yesterday. But we survived to fight another day. I will not give you up easily.”

“Nor will I,” Hermione said with a conviction that surprised her.

Bellatrix let all other words of comfort die on her lips. She was out of practice in supply such emotional support to anyone. There had been a time when she treated Narcissa with such care, but a decade and a half in prison had largely erased any traces of empathy she once had. The girl’s breathing deepened and her frantic embrace lightened.

“Thank you, Bella,” she mumbled on the edge of sleep. There was so much more she wanted to say to the older witch and so much more to ask her, but being used so roughly after such an emotional dream left her unable to do anything but succomb to exhaustion.

* * *

 

Hermione woke first surrounded by the smell of Bellatrix. It was a distinct mixture of cinnamon and pine that was deliciously luxurious. In sleep the witch’s stern face was relaxed and peaceful. For a fleeting moment, Hermione wondered what she might have looked like when she was younger. It wasn’t as though the dark witch looked her age. Like most purebloods she had aged much slower. Her body bore a few scars from the rougher periods in her life, but the healing after Azkaban rendered her once again a beautiful specimen. Hermione was unsure if she could rely on her opinions of the witch to be unbiased now. She felt completely at home waking up naked next to the fierce warrior and there was undeniable affection buzzing just under her skin.

There was so much about the current situation that she didn’t understand and was entirely unprepared for. The strength of the connection was like something out of a fairytale book about true love. Her muggle parents must have skipped over the chapters about rough kinky sexy and ownership. As she could do nothing about her lack of information, aside from waiting to be told exactly what the parameters were, Hermione decided to take advantage of the opportunity in front of her.

Very slowly as to not wake her companion, she drew the sheet away from their naked bodies. In the light of morning, Bellatrix was even more beautiful than she had been in candle light. Hermione lightly drew her fingertips over nipples that hardened in the cool air. Under her touch they tightened more until she knew they must be aching. She longed to draw them into her mouth, but that would surely wake the witch. She moved slowly to the edge of the bed settling between legs thrown apart in sleep. Hermione touched toned thighs lightly baring a warm center to her more fully. The witch was drenched. The young witch inhaled deeply and suspected that the arousal was likely from the midnight interruption when she had been fucked so thoroughly. Bellatrix relaxed her beyond being able to reciprocate and apparently fell asleep without taking matters into her own hands.

She knew it was unlikely that the dark witch would stay asleep through even gentle touches. So she decided to rather get to the point. She pressed the flat of her tongue against the dark witch’s wetness. As the night before, she found the taste of the woman intoxicating. Previously she had never given serious thought to what it might be like to nestle between another woman’s legs, but this might be her personal definition of nirvana. As she gently swiped her tongue in a circle around the woman’s clit, a hand anchored in her hair holding her in place.

“This is a very good way to wake me up, pet,” Bellatrix growled through the edges of sleep. She would allow the girl to wake her slowly. There was no reason to rush this morning. At her words, she felt the girl engage her more fully. Small hands pushed her legs firmly apart, spreading her wide for whatever the little witch had come up with. The tongue seemed to be everywhere. It was clear that the brightest witch of her age had every intention of unlocking every secret of her body. Normally Bellatrix would run at such an invasion of privacy, but this delightful creature was bonded to her. Letting the girl learn such things would be advantageous. After all, morning came everyday and a witch could certainly get used to it.

Hermione enjoyed the uncontrolled reactions of the sleepy death eater. There was something uncontrolled and and malleable about her. That was something that Hermione could not resist exploring. She nipped at the hardened bundle of nerves using her teeth for the first time. A second hand joined the first in her hair and pulling harder than before.

“Pushing limits today, are you, pet?”

Hermione thought of answering, but couldn’t be bothered to remove her mouth from its current task. She figured that a second love bite to sensitive skin was likely as good of an answer as anything else.

“Fuck, Muddy. Just like that. Be rough. Fingers in me now. Do not keep me waiting,” she growled.

The young witch complied happily giving into the older witch’s desires. The harder she pushed the more Bellatrix tugged at her, moaned and demanded that she continue. With a hard twist turning her entire hand over. The dark witch shouted and clutched her close spasming around her fingers. Hermione was not immediately released from her position so she continued to kiss and nuzzle contentedly. After a few minutes, Bellatrix tugged her hair upwards roughly until she could capture the girl’s lips.

“I misjudged you, my dirty girl. I didn’t think you had that in you. But I am very pleased.” She ran her hand down the moist cheek knowing that the wetness was her own. “And how do you feel about it?” Instead of waiting for an answer, she possessed Hermione’s mouth with her tongue. She slipped her hand between the girl’s legs. Her fingers came away moist. She broke the kiss replacing her lips with her fingers. Hermione took them enthusiastically into her mouth.

“Well, pet. I am glad you enjoyed me as much as you did. You seem rather on edge now. Is there something you would like from me?”

“You.”

“I have no doubt you do. Be a good girl today and we will see about you tonight.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but a slender finger covered her lips.

“No, pet. You are mine to do with as I please. And I want you aching for me all day. You should still be sore from earlier. You are, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am,” she whispered eyes cast down.

“Good. Time to get up.”

Bellatrix removed herself from the embrace that she was enjoying far too much and sauntered to the bathroom. As she got to the door she paused with a chilling look in her eyes. Hermione scrambled to get out of bed and follow her.


End file.
